Sunday
by yeaka
Summary: Freddy gets closer to Zack. Discontinued.


Disclaimer: I don't own School of Rock or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.

Warnings: Slash, uselessness.

A/N: This is an edited section of the extremely old story, 'Step Off Sunday Morning.' I just removed the rest, because this is really too terrible to exist. Proceed with caution.

* * *

Freddy Jones didn't know what he thought of Mondays.

On the one hand, they were almost unbearably awful. On Mondays he had to wear his uniform, his ugly, boring, preppy, uniform, and on Mondays he had to smile, as his preppy parents pushed him out the ugly door, and drove him to a boring school. He had to deal with bells ringing in his ears, and teachers snapping at him, and girls smiling at him with grins as fake as his own. He had to listen to Mrs. Dunham's drones, and Mrs. Mullin's preaching, and his mother's whines. He had to write papers, and essays, and equations that didn't makes sense. He had to stare at the little hands on the clock all day, which moved much, much, much too slowly.

But on the other hand, sometimes Mondays would mean a chance to see Zack. Mostly it was just the back of his dark head of hair, but other times he could say something stupid or rebellious enough to have the class turn around and look at him. Or he could poke Zack with a pencil's end to ask what on Earth the teacher said, or what any of it meant.

Anytime Freddy got to look into Zack's eyes, the day wouldn't seem so bad. It wasn't that Zack had special eyes or anything. His eyes weren't mismatched or funny colours, like Freddy's father read about in newspapers. His eyes weren't an ocean you could drown in, like his mother read about in romance novels. His eyes were just... eyes. Simple, and plain, and brown.

But Freddy liked them, anyway. Enough that Mondays didn't seem so terrible, and Freddy would deliberately sit across from Zack at lunch, just to see them. He smiled.

Zack smiled back. A little. "Hey."

Freddy answered, "Hey."

That was mostly all there was to say.

Zack had a sandwich for lunch, and Freddy had spaghetti. He offered Zack some, but Zack didn't want any, and he didn't want some of the sandwich. Horace Green was a wealthy school. A prep school. Its cafeteria could cook.

Zack wouldn't have known why Freddy was sitting with him, and Freddy didn't provide an extra explanation. They ate quietly, otherwise alone, even though it wasn't in Freddy's nature to be quiet, and Frankie wanted to eat with them. Freddy sent him away, and Zack didn't ask why. Freddy didn't say why. Freddy didn't know why, exactly.

No one else asked to sit with Zack, even though lots wanted to sit with Freddy. It wasn't like Zack was unpopular; he just didn't have a lot of friends. Horace Green was small, and there weren't many kids to connect with.

Freddy and Zack had never exactly 'connected' before.

"So..." Zack muttered, suddenly. Freddy looked up. Zack looked down. "What... what do you think of the new sub?" He still wasn't asking why Freddy was even there.

"He's cool."

There was quiet again.

Zack took another bite out of his sandwich. There was only room for a couple more. "I think he's a bit of a joke." His voice didn't sound negative.

Freddy grinned. "That's why I think he's cool."

Zack took another bite. And another. The sandwich was gone. "Oh."

"Yeah."

Freddy sighed, and handed him a spare fork. Zack went a little pink. Smirking a little, Freddy pushed his plate forward. "Come on, try some. There's no way that tiny sandwich was enough."

Zack handed the fork back, but Freddy didn't take it. He looked to the side, clearly a little uncomfortable. "Um, I have that much every day, so I'm fine..."

"Really?" Freddy interrupted, eyebrows knitting together skeptically. "I'd starve."

So Zack took a bit of the spaghetti. And chewed it. And smiled. "It's good."

Freddy smiled back. "Of course it is."

And then Zack just said it: "Um... thanks. But... why are you sitting here?"

Freddy stuck out his tongue. He didn't know what to say. Did it matter? So he just said the first thing that popped into his head. Whether true, or not. The first stupid thing. "You have really pretty eyes." And then he turned red for sounding like an idiot.

That was how it started.

Mondays weren't so bad.


End file.
